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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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The Voice Within - 2
by Dave (ufpe@go2netmail.com)

***

A continuation into the life of and implanted janitor. 
(MF, nc, sci-fi)

***

Writers note; Thanks to the positive feedback I 
received from the initial installment, I've been 
persuaded to continue the epoch journeys of Bob and his 
symbiotic soul mate. At risk of redundancy, so abundant 
in sequels, Bob is about to embark on a cosmic journey 
into the depths of reality in search of fulfillment (or 
whatever else makes itself available.

***

As the gentle hands of Miss K. found my hardening 
organ, the same wild abandoned I'd witnessed upon my 
many recent conquests began to overwhelmed her delicate 
features. Throwing the thin blanket to the carpet, she 
threw herself face down into the plush mattress, and 
raised her rump high into the air as I half expected 
her to release the pent up gasses from the spicy 
tamales we had devoured the night before. Rather, a 
simple expletive about reaming her butt cleared the air 
while triggering alarm bells in the brains atop both my 
throbbing member, and between my ears. 

Now I've never been one to exploit all the available 
openings my female counterparts possess as I had always 
reasoned the old poop shut was for foul things to exit 
rather than for my cherished manhood to enter. It was 
apparent that any reasoning she may still harbor was 
dominated by animal lust, so I improvised and went to 
the head. 

A woman possessed is beyond driven, and before I could 
lock myself into the only immediate refuge that came to 
mind she was in front of me, bent over at the waist, 
mumbling things that would convince a deaf mute she was 
no virgin in the rear end department. Her tightly 
puckered hole was barely visible between the two 
flawless globes she presented so shamelessly to me.

Such unconditional abandon was more than my resurrected 
organ could deny and I moved toward her remembering, 
only at the last moment, that a little lube keeps the 
squeaking to a minimum. A quick dollop of KY and I was 
positioned to enter uncharted waters as my victim 
shivered visibly in anticipation. Tight is a gross 
understatement when describing her pink portal while 
perserverance is a virtue. 

After several forceful thrusts, I was in the slippery 
cavern wondering secretly if packaged enema kits 
wouldn't be a far gentler means of fulfilling her 
needs. The tugging friction was glorious, and her 
unexpected orgasm accompanied by the almost unbearable 
tightening of her sphincter was far more pleasurable 
than I could imagine. 

Uncounted orgasms later, she collapsed onto the 
bathmat; while my unfulfilled pee shooter remained as 
solid as ever. I let her lay, a pool of quivering 
humanity, as I turned on the hot water and quickly 
cleaned any residue that may plug up my pee hole in 
fear of future consequences, the least being 
spontaneous abdominal combustion from pent up pee. I 
covered her gently and flipped on a pair of 
conservative swimwear so I could bask by the pool and 
reconsider the new application of my tool in its 
recently demonstrated rotor rooter role. 

As I turned to the door, she was kneeling in front of 
me, and yanked down the oversized spandex to engulf my 
flaccid tool. She used her mouth with the same 
beautiful expertise she sculpted her voice, while her 
delicate fingers tugged and smoothed the pink folds 
between her still quivering legs. It was far more 
stimulation than my overworked appendage could sustain, 
and as her hand began to cup and ply my gonads; I 
expended the essence my reproductive system. 

I too fell to my knees in ecstasy as my pheromone 
saturated seed slid into her digestive system. She 
began quaking with renewed orgasms in an erotic display 
that would make millions on the porn market. It sure is 
good to be a reengineered man, and I thanked my 
symbiotic companion gratefully as I gently caressed the 
trembling frame of Miss K. A gentle buzz at the base of 
my spine signaled its acknowledgement as I rose to my 
feet, and once ahead headed for the comfort of the 
pool. 

The pool was surrounded by manicured palms and had a 
delightful floating bar under a thatched roof on the 
shallow end. I slid onto one of the submerged stools 
allowing the gentle water to sooth my weary torso as 
the bartender nonchalantly poured me a scotch on the 
rocks. There was little activity to set my depleted 
reproductive system astir except for two young beauties 
at the far end of the pool, playing volleyball. I was 
intrigued by their chest mounted superstructure that 
swayed and bobbled in wild abandon in a delayed 
symphony to the motions of their extremities. As I was 
about to unleash my fantasies, I saw them – the Men in 
Black emerging from the guest gate; one with a striking 
resemblance to Tommy Lee!

Within seconds my fight or flight reflex kicked in as I 
saw them moving determinedly towards me! Panic spurred 
me to choke down my Johnny Walker, as my legs turned to 
jelly. Wordlessly, they flashed badges that could have 
easily come from a five and dime for all I knew. With a 
quick, no nonsense command, I was following them like a 
little puppy to their unmarked POV with a small decal 
that proclaimed "Homeland Security" stuck on the 
driver's door. 

With nary an indication that the black gas hog would 
convert into a rocket sled, I was forced into the back 
seat and we were off before a crowd could gather. These 
men must have graduated at the top of their class in 
humane inhumanity as my queries were blatantly ignored 
while neither seatbelt nor explanations were ever 
offered.

We roared down the freeway to a small government 
facility and I was briskly escorted onto a small jet 
with plastic seat covers and a thread bare carpet. I 
was given a lukewarm Coke as we flew over the desert 
and watched a Humphrey Bogart movie while they stared 
at me from behind their Ray Bans. 

As the plane began its descent I could see unremarkable 
hangers and support structures alongside a long landing 
strip and suddenly recognized the site as Area 51 from 
the aerial photos I'd seen on a 60-minute special 
several weeks ago. The lump in my throat turned into a 
boulder. A quick taxi on the tarmac and I was pushed 
out the hatch and into a small office that could have 
easily doubled as granny's home in the 'burbs.

The elevator ride into the bowels of terra firma seemed 
endless, and I found myself getting excited for some 
gawd awful reason. As the door opened, I was staring 
directly into to shiny glasses of Dawn, the BSP queen! 
The symbiotic lump in the small of my back suddenly 
reacted so violently my legs almost gave out.

"How's it hangin' Bob," she quipped.

"To the left and a quart low; how's that mole on the 
inside of your right thigh – you really should get that 
looked at by a trained professional." My discomfort 
with the current scenario was apparent through my 
clenched teeth.

"Still quick on your feet among other places, I hear'" 
she bantered back with the emotionless face that all 
professionals seem to carry.

"Not quick enough thanks to your MiB's; why don't you 
put me on a greyhound back to my scotch, and I'll 
forget all about the kidnapping charges."

A stone faced Neanderthal stepped in front of Dawn and, 
after allowing a few seconds of intimidation, he spoke 
in a voice that could set off a new ice age. "You've 
been brought to this research facility to serve your 
country on a mission of intergalactic importance."

"Spare me..."

"Would you prefer to spend the remainder of your paltry 
existence in a maximum security facility?"

"That would far more palatable than working with an 
over inflated idiot as yourself," I retorted, growing 
increasingly annoyed. 

"We have sworn testimonials from all the women you've 
raped..."

"They asked for it..."

"Whoa - let's take it down a notch, boys." It was Dawn 
who interjected just moments before I was aiming to rip 
out the Neanderthals throat.

"Come with me Bob," she requested in a firm voice. 
Again I found myself following someone I really 
couldn't trust like a new found puppy. It was true she 
had given me a new lease on life, but I was about to 
learn it was only a small part of a much grander 
scheme. We walked down a long white corridor, me in a 
swimsuit with hardening nipples and a shriveling 
penetrator thanks to the cold and colorless floor. 
Again a victim, I could feel my constant companion 
writhing torturously against my spine learning first 
hand, the true meaning of empathy. How I wanted to hear 
the voice within once more but I surmised its silence 
was for a just cause. We turned down a less well 
illuminated hallway before coming to a door that seemed 
to vanish as soon as Dawn stepped through it.

There on a small bench were two honest to goodness 
Roswell aliens, staring at us with huge unblinking eyes 
and long sinewy fingers that slowly moved as if they 
had a mind of their own. Now I've seen many strange 
things in my time but these little creatures took the 
cake. Emotionless, colorless, sexless, and who knows 
what else less, their aura was just too weird and I got 
ready to bolt out of there even if it meant spending 
the rest of my life in solitary. Without looking I 
turned and ran directly into the chest of He-Man, the 
Neanderthal and fell flat onto the floor bruising my 
butt.

"These are ambassadors from another world," Dawn stated 
as she tried to suppress a hint of laughter.

I just sat on the floor with my lower jaw hanging 
somewhere down near my knees. 

"They have shared some of their technology and helped 
us in adapting that technology to our life forms in 
that we may assist some of the planets they protect by 
providing a, shall we say, natural resource that is 
abundant on our world."

"Uh..." was all I could mutter.

Dawn continued: "You are the first of we hope many that 
will travel to different worlds to help their dying 
species procreate. With no ties on this world, and 
frankly, very little to offer, you're a prime 
candidate."

"Hold on a minute Speedy Gonzalez," I was finally able 
to blurt out, "You're going to send me as a sexual 
ambassador to ET's planet to make little Martians?" The 
thought of dumping my seed into one of these bug-eyed 
apparitions went beyond repulsion.

"Well, yes," Dawn return unfaltering, "But you'll find 
'ET' far more appealing than some of the people 
standing in this very room." She nodded towards He-Man 
with a smirk. 

"Why don't they just go fuck themselves?'

"They can't, Bob. Most all male species that evolved 
similar to our own appear to have one basic flaw – in 
time the male reproductive organs shrink into...well 
look at the two males sitting here!"

I looked at their crotches from afar, yet close enough 
to ascertain their throbbing manhood was little more 
than a pimple with a pee hole. "Will this happen to 
us?"

"Fortunately not, thanks to fluoride."

"Come again?"

"I'd love to; thanks Bob," she snickered, scrunching 
her nose in a way I always found cute. 

"Fluoride?"

"Why do you think it's been used for such a long time 
in the developed nations?"

"Why do I need the booger you stuck in my back then?"

"It will help you adapt and support your reproductive 
system so you won't, shall we say, peter out 
prematurely. You'll be happy to know, your voyage 
across the galaxy will be faster than light so when you 
arrive at your new home, you'll be substantially 
younger than you are today."

It took a few moments to digest what Dawn had given me 
but who in their right mind would turn down an 
opportunity to serve their species by living on a 
technologically advanced planet while being surrounded 
by hoards of sex starved naked virgins eagerly awaiting 
fertilization. "I'll go," I muttered while forcefully 
repressing the urge to tap dance through the halls.

"I knew you would," Dawn clapped her hands with glee; 
"Let's get you prepped."

***

Somewhere amidst the great expanse, we commonly refer 
to as The Milky Way, a naked figure lays strapped to a 
floating bed with a large video screen showing non-stop 
porno movies while a device aptly named an "orgasmic 
inducer" continually urges his gradually diminishing 
seed into a small receptacle. His once proud symbol of 
masculinity has been reduced to a lifeless membrane 
that had lost all sensation; the once abundant nerve 
endings pummeled into senseless oblivion.

Deep inside his pelvis, a small translucent membrane 
throbs with activity, spurred on in its ceaseless 
activity by a small electrode that tirelessly emits the 
tiny spark of life that keeps both the BSP and its host 
at their peak reproduction efficiency. As tears slowly 
continued to form in his eyes, his mind wanders, for 
just a brief moment, to the hum of the buffer as he 
polished the floor and the happiness he knew then. A 
million tomorrows passed.

Somehow, as Bob dozed amidst the incessant silence that 
caressed him he became aware of the first movement he 
had witnessed for an eternity. A small child ran over 
to his immobile form and began to caress his face with 
the tenderness only a mother posses while tears 
reddened her twinkling eyes. Other hands hurriedly 
began to free his bound extremities as the gentle 
persistent pressure that had clung on his lifeless 
genitals was suddenly gone. 

"Wha..." was all my parched lips could produce.

I'm so sorry Bob, the crying little girl stammered "So 
sorry."

I recognized Dawns voice and with closer inspection, 
saw the juvenile precursor of the woman I had grown to 
loathe over untold centuries. 

"What?"

"Shhh," she chided, "We're going to take you home now."

Knowing words were hard to come by, I succumbed to her 
advice, while a voice within spoke clearly and 
distinctly; "That was fun, what'll we do next?"

On the voyage home, the angelic little child explained 
how, after I and a few of my successors were 
transported to other worlds, a benevolent race of 
aliens had interceded to reveal the true nature of our 
inbreeding. My genetically superior offspring would 
eventually join invading forces that, in their hybrid 
form were destined to dominate Earth and several other 
nearby habitable planets. 

On humanities behalf, these benevolent aliens offered 
their assistance, and set out to rescue those who had 
survived their grueling internment while banishing the 
bug-eyed bad guys into oblivion. I was the lone 
survivor thanks to the continuing efforts of my BSP to 
preserve what little life force I had. 

As the ship landed under the cover of darkness at Area 
51, I was amazed to find that I was the same as when 
the MiB's had torn me from my world an eternity ago. 
Only catching a glimpse of one of the tall skinny alien 
rescuers, I waved my gratitude as I was hurriedly 
escorted from the long sleek silver ship into an 
awaiting jet. 

The jet looked the same, as were my two escorts; dead 
ringers of those who had originally taken me from my 
scotch, complete with Ray Bans and the personality of a 
rock. The only difference was the Presidential Medal of 
Freedom one of them handed me unceremoniously 
graciously displayed in a mahogany box perfect for 
storing my unused condoms. 

Miss K. was somewhat perturbed with my unannounced 
absence until I flashed the medal in front of her face, 
and set about removing the thin sleepwear that clung so 
enticingly to the gentle curves of her womanhood. In an 
instant, my face was buried in the delicious folds of 
her sexuality, savoring her essence as she greedily 
groped for my tool. 

A drop of precum later, she was flooding my mouth with 
the sweetest taste I could ever desire, bucking and 
moaning uncontrollably as her body took on a life of 
its own. Still recovering from its machine induced 
trauma, my manhood barely stirred in arousal while 
grudgingly offering what little orgasmic inducing fluid 
it could surrender.

Sometime later, as we lay in the incomparable 
afterglow, my mind drifted back to the young woman who 
had started it all, and wondered, just for a moment, 
where she may be. The voice within shattered my mental 
meanderings.

"She's not bad but I know we can do better; got any 
chocolate?"

"Haven't you had enough excitement for a lifetime," I 
queried skeptically?

"I can't speak for you slim Jim, but I plan to live 
forever."

"I think we already have," I quipped, "And let's knock 
of the below the belt slurs, shall we?"

"I can talk how ever I want about my equipment," it 
retorted.

"Got me there," I sighed.

"Sure do," it responded wistfully. "Let's play 
Volleyball tomorrow."

"Sure you're up to it?"

"Try asking yourself the same question!"

"Just did; now shut it and let me get some rest, would 
you? I swear you must be a woman!"

"Are you," it asked suspiciously.

"Does it really matter," I retorted wondering if 
schizophrenia was setting in.

"I'll be whatever you want me to be."

"Good, be quiet then; we'll check out the pool as soon 
as the bar opens." I felt a warm buzz at the base of my 
neck and knew, as the only implant survivor, I had to 
be the luckiest guy in the whole world. 


To be continued?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 39